It was a damned good thing men couldn’t have children. Gregory took no shame in admitting that the human race would have died out generations earlier.

Anthony Bridgerton leaned back in his leather chair,and then announced, "I'm thinking about getting married." Benedict Bridgerton, who had been indulging in a habit his mother detested—tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs—fell over. Colin Bridgerton started to choke. Luckily for Colin, Benedict regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table. It narrowly missed Anthony's ear.

Why don’t you purchase an Italian dictionary? I will assume the expense.” “I have one,” she said, “but I don’t think it’s very good. Half the words are missing.” “Half?” “Well, some,” she amended. “But truly, that’s not the problem.” He blinked, waiting for her to continue. She did. Of course. “I don’t think Italian is the author’s native tongue,” she said. “The author of the dictionary?” he queried. “Yes. It’s not terribly idiomatic.

That was very rude of me.” “Think nothing of it. You’ve done worse.

Eloiseis getting married as well.” “Eloise?” Michael asked with some surprise. “Was she even being courted by anyone?” “No,” Francesca said, quickly flipping to the third sheet of her mother‟s letter. “It‟s someone she‟s never met.” “Well, I imagine she‟s met him now,” Michael said in a dry voice.

She hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.

Where is he? Bridgerton!" he bellowed. Three chestnut heads swiveled in his direction. Simon stomped across the grass, murder in his eyes. "I meant the idiot Bridgerton." "That, I believe," Anthony said mildly, tilting his chin toward Colin, "would refer to you.